Home > Life or something like it > Entry 05/22/2005 12:08:06 PM – Mentat 156

Entry 05/22/2005 12:08:06 PM – Mentat 156

05/23/2005

Entry 05/22/2005 12:08:06 PM – Mentat 156

     To continue from yesterday…

     I was heading back into the house from outside, ready to face the truth that this wasn’t going the way that I wanted it to, and that after this weekend, there was a strong possibility that I wouldn’t ever be seeing him again.  Sure Will would want to talk and stay friends, but my experience has always been that when feelings of unrequited love are involved — especially when it’s my feelings towards that person — it’s in both our best interests that I simply get my act together, pick myself up, and try to get as much distance from the person as possible.  Sometimes quickly, sometimes gradually, but always the eventuality because eventually it would become too painful holding onto unrequited feelings. 
     I remember trying to talk about it.  Trying to understand what had gone wrong, or not wrong.  And I knew that I was working on a time limit.  Not so much that things would continue going south between myself and Will — but more over the fact that I knew I was looking at a crater in my feelings and my heart, and that eventually the numbness that was protected me from an emotional outburst was going to fade, leaving me emotionally raw. 

     During this numbness, I don’t remember exactly everything I had asked or talked about.  I recall vaguely that I acknowledged his choices.  I remember answering his questions (in some detail) how I was going to handle this news once he was gone.  Including totally breaking down and crying about it.  Including keeping to myself and becoming a recluse for an indeterminate amount of time (although the more that I think about this, the more I believe that I was telling a half-truth, as I knew that if I was going to hurt that much — chances are I would’ve cancelled my internet account and gone back to the wilds of reality). 
     Quite plainly I wracked over the news.  No matter how many times I tried to accept the plain and simple fact that something attraction comes down to sight and hormones, I just couldn’t accept it as fact.  There was one point when I needed a little air, or distance or both from Will because I knew the numbness was wearing off.  I should’ve been quiet, called a time out, kept to myself momentarily.  Told Will that I needed a moment, but I recall Will following me into the kitchen to continue talking about it — with a look on his face that said that he wanted to make sure that I was all right.  I remember admitting to him just how much it hurt, and how much I would rather not have a heart at the moment.  And for a moment, I broke down and cried a little before I took hold again. 
     Will about bolted, I recall him saying, "I shouldn’t have come."  And then headed to where his bag was to pack up everything.  Common sense would’ve said, let him go, and deal with the pain now…  But somehow I knew that in letting him go, I would harden myself up, and I would never want to talk to him ever again (I even admitted that to him while he was packing, and told him not to go).  So we continued to talk, and I continued to agonize, and tried also not to have another emotional outburst like I had… 

     But during the conversation and the agonizing, I kept hearing an undercurrent to some of the things Will had said and done.  While he said that there was no physical attraction — I kept picking up hints that there was.  And in the morning when I had woken him up, I recall kissing him on the neck ’til he awoke.  It was rather interesting, given that the more I kissed him, the more that he appeared to have enjoyed it.  If there wasn’t any attraction, both unconsciously and consciously — he would’ve been repelled by it. 
     After almost 4 hours of agonizing over it, trying to understand it, and finally being so confused about the signals that I was getting from him — I remember looking at Will and saying, "I want you to kiss me." 
     That confused him.  In fact, I had never seen anyone quite as confused looking as he was at that very moment.  While I’ve felt as confused as he looked, I had the tendency of burying what I was feeling beneath a calm demeanor until such time as I was able to puzzle out what was said to me, or what was being implied. 

     He wanted to know why I asked him to kiss me, and I had told him that I could explain all the reasons to him — but I would do so only after he had kissed me, because I didn’t want the kiss to be shaded/influenced by the reasoning that I had thought out.  He had then gotten really quiet and right before my eyes, he imploded.  Turned totally inward.  I watched him keep saying the same thing over and over, in a mantra-like fashion.  I tried to pull him out of it, but he just wouldn’t have it that way.  So I did my best to console him until he came out of it. 
     Later on, he had explained to me that’s what he did when he had been given a problem with no input.  That he quite literally emotionally implodes in this manner while he tries to deal with the problem he was feeling.  It’s also one of those sort of things that reinforces just how helpless I feel when talking with Will and being unable to help him through his difficult times. 
     I had asked him yesterday (May 21st) on if there was anything that he wanted excluded from my journal entry postings, and he asked that this be it.  I agreed wholeheartedly because unless a person was there to see what I had seen — they would not understand in the least this implosion that he had gone through.  So this is why this has been marked as [Do Not Publish]. 
 
     He had stayed quiet for a while, and then asked me to use my computer.  I agreed and let him have his space while I flicked the television on, watching nothing in particular, and sitting outside a little bit while I tried to work out what it was I was feeling, and brace myself for what to look forward to for the night.  I had stressed to Will earlier in the conversation that the bed was his, and I would sleep in the other room as it would be best for the both of us.  He offered to have the arrangements reversed, but I told him that it always goes to the guest, not the host.  However, the longer that he took working at the computer, the more my imagination started kicking in.  At one point during his typing, I had this rather dreadful feeling that he was writing a long and protracted e-mail to his friend Brad, telling him how badly things had gone, and that in some bizarre way, telling him that I had been holding Will here against his will, or some such (lack of sleep does that to me). 
     But when he finished, he had come out and asked me whether or not I wanted to read what he had to say.  Turns out that he had written in his journal — his private journal — and explained that after I had read the entry, he would explain everything.  So I read his journal entry.  It explained how he had regretted saying what he had said.  It explained that out of all the things that he found important and endearing about me, that he had settled on the physical, and how he trivialized all the important things based on only one element.  I had told Will that it’s entirely possible to not feel any physical attraction for someone, and that if all the elements are there, but physical attraction — that he shouldn’t ever sacrifice one for the others.  I even went to explain a little on personal experience when I did that, and how the results while looking good in the short run had bad repercussions in the long run. 
     We had talked a bit more, and I had agonized as far as I possibly could, and the longer the night wore on, the more that I realized that he wasn’t going to kiss me, and that I should calm myself down in order to get some sleep for the night, and face Sunday morning and the repercussions of what was going to happen when he had left.  I laid down on the floor, with my head against the bed, throw pillow in arms, and began a short meditation to calm my nerves, calm my heart, and get my body ready for sleep..
     Just then, I heard Will move, and lay down next to me.  He had draped himself across my chest, and when he looked at me he had said, "I hate it that you’re right."  The word hate sounding almost, but not quite like a defeat or an admission that there was something common sense about it.  The instant that he said that I had braced myself.  Because I knew that he was going to kiss me.  I had even held m breath for a moment while I waited. 

     He didn’t kiss me outright.  In fact, he had taken me quite by surprise by the fact that he touched my face first.  Caressed it.  Wanted to know by feeling the shape and contour of my face.  I held my breath a little longer, watching him as he had done this.  Feeling my heart race in both surprise and anticipation for him to kiss me, trying not to blink as I watched him.  When he had leaned in to kiss me I did close my eyes, and in that moment when our lips touched, my feelings for him were reinforced.. In that one kiss, I was torn between wanting him to stay in my life, and the possibility that this kiss would reinforce his disinterest in me.  The feelings I had from that one kiss broke down whatever braces I had built over the probability that this would be the last time I saw him again.  I cried again.  Hurt by the pain I was feeling over the thought that this was it…   There would be nothing more than this kiss. 
    Will smiled and stayed lying against me, looking at me.  I recall him saying something to cheer me up…  It did cheer me up, but I was still pretty torn up by my own fears that this was the end of the weekend, and that Sunday, he would be piling into the car, and never seeing him again.  Things were a little bit easier between the two of us after that kiss, but my feelings for wanting more were overwhelming me.  I tried my best to keep some physical distance from him, but he kept staying relative close to me. 

     Something hit me at about 9:30.  My better sense said it was time for a time out, and that I needed to go outside and get some air.  Perhaps take a cold shower.  Something…  Anything to calm my hormones , and my feelings.  But I didn’t listen to my better sense.  All I listened to was my desire to kiss him again.  Which I did.
     Will got a really serious look on his face and asked me, "Are you sure?" 
     "Absolutely." 

     It was an incredible night after that. 

     There was passion…
     There was sensitivity…
     There were moments of wild abandon…
     There were moments of time out…  (One particular moment when we took a time out, that comes to readily mind was at about 2 in the morning and went outside to sit on the stoop in while the rest of the world was pretty much sleeping.  I was sitting behind him while we whispered small talk.  He had taken his shirt off and I remember kissing his neck between the shoulders.  I remember vividly that he sighed, and that I could remember his scent and how much I enjoyed it.  Then one of my neighbors that I didn’t expect to be up and mobile at that time was, and we stopped to go back into the house). 
     There were moments of cuddling…
     There were moments of exploration… 
     There were moments of laughter and talking… 
     There were moments of quiet, and seriousness…
     It was all-encompassing…
     It was overwhelming… 

     One of the other memories I have from the night was at about 4 in the morning when the two of us had fallen asleep for a short time.  Will had been holding me, and he promptly woke me up saying something about my heartbeat being entirely irregular, and that he was really concerned.  I explained to him that there was nothing wrong, and that it was probably a bit slower than it should be.  The next thing I remember was that it started raining, and that it was the building of a thunderstorm.  Not the kind that you’d worry about the electrical appliances..  The kind that has a little light show, and a little rumbling, and a light rain to let you know it’s wet outside. 
     Will says that’s the kind of storm he likes sleeping to.  It was the kind of storm I was glad to be awake to…  With him next to me. 

 ===========================================================================
 
     The day came.  Sunday.  He had to get ready to head home to work (as he didn’t get the whole of the day out).  He did play hooky for a couple of more hours and we napped together to make up for the sleep neither of us got the night before.  With the air conditioner on the fritz, and the temperature in the house rising from cool to warm, I recall vividly lying there next to him, not feeling any discomfort whatsoever.  If anything, it felt like his body was absorbing the heat, without producing any of its own.  It was very comforting, even if I couldn’t actually sleep next to him. 
     As I sat there near him as he was packing away his things for the trip back home, on an impulse I gave him my ring.  And he gave me his.  It was funny…  My ring wouldn’t fit on any of his fingers, or even his thumb.  His can fit on my pinky.  I remember following him out to the car, and wishing him a safe trip.  I remember leaning into the car to give him a kiss before he left.  I remember watching him drive off.  I also remember that when I looked into his eyes before he drove off, they were indeed hazel-green with gold flecks. 

     And I realized then, that it was true…  His eye color does in fact change. 

     On the one side I was reasonably sure that I would hear from Will when he got home, and that some things would return to the normal I would expect from chatting with him routinely as I do.  On the other, I didn’t know what was in store for the two of us since we had been so intimate.  I was frustrated for several hours after Will had left because I could still smell him on me, and around the house.  I could still smell him after showering and changing my clothes. 
      For the rest of the day, I felt as though I were holding my breath. 

     He got in contact with me when he got home by catching me online.  He had gotten home safely, and wanted me to know it.  We chatted for a while on and off for the remainder of the night, and then around the time I was getting ready for bed, he tells me that he has something to say.  He didn’t want to say it in type.  For a moment I got scared and thought this was it…  With him home, he would be saying thanks, but no thanks..  So I told him to give me a call when he was ready, and I would have the phone by the bed as I was getting ready to turn in. 
     He did call, just like he said.  He told me that he had been on a buzz since he left earlier this afternoon.  And then he told me that, …he wanted to make this work between him and me….

     And the feeling as though the day was holding its breath had finally exhaled.  In the fifteen seconds before I fell asleep I remember my heart soaring into the clouds above.  And in that moment before sleep gave me a good night kiss, I realized…

     This is love. 

     Until the next time. 

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